


Pretend Everything's Alright

by wine_dark_seashells



Series: Gender? False [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluffy Ending, Gay, Gender Dysphoria, M/M, May add more chapters later, Trans Male Character, my bois got dem feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-05-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:22:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24405727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wine_dark_seashells/pseuds/wine_dark_seashells
Summary: Max is now 18. He can do whatever he wants (within limits). It's not all good news and happy boyfriends, however.Max gets a phone call and George comes to the rescue. Hunter is a legend, as always.
Relationships: Maximus Nova & Hunter, Maximus Nova/George Reynolds
Series: Gender? False [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1762453
Kudos: 2





	Pretend Everything's Alright

The rain dripped from the gutters and pooled in the streets. The wind danced in the waving trees, and the leaves scattered and swirled.

The phone rang, jarring the peace, vibrating on the table. Max picked it up with a grimace. He had a headache.

“ _Hello, my lovely granddaughter!_ ”

Max glared at the light switch. He cleared his throat, aiming for a higher pitch. _Thank gods for choir or I’d never be able to switch back so easily._

“Hi, Poppy.”

“ _Your mum told me to give you a ring. Said you had some exciting news!_ ”

His mouth dropped open in a silent gasp. His eyes opened wide, staring blankly at the wall. _She didn’t! What did she say? Does he know??_

“Can’t think of a- anything.” _Stay calm._

“ _Oh. Well, I have some news for you too, Emma!_ ”

“Oh. Oh, yeah?”

“ _I’m going back up to Diamond Head next week. Wondered if you’d like to come._ ”

_That’s it? No, that’s good. He doesn’t know._

“Ah, no thanks, Poppy. I’ve got that flute recital, remember?”

_Well, it’s not a flute recital. It’s actually a dressage meet, but you said that was only for boys, remember? And as far as you’re concerned, I’m a girl. So it’s a flute recital to you, dear old grandfather._

“ _That’s just too bad. I was really looking forward to seeing you._ ”

Max rubbed a tired hand across his forehead. “I know. I’m sorry, Poppy.”

“ _Well, you’ll have to call me when you’re free, then. I miss seeing my only granddaughter. You’re all grown up now._ ”

“I know, Poppy.”

“ _I’ve got to go, but I want you to call me later, right?_ ”

“I will.” _I won’t_.

“ _Ok. Miss you, darling. Take care now.”_

“Miss- miss you too, Poppy. Bye.”

“ _Bye-”_

Hunter flickered in the corner of Max’s vision as he let out a shaky breath. Their black eyes grew concerned when Max’s breathing sped up. The shade started forwards as Max collapsed like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

**Max!**

Max’s head shot up and he scooted backwards against the wall in shock. Silence filled the room. Rain rattled against the window. The silence was all consuming, Hunter flickering concernedly.

**Are you having a panic attack, Max?**

“I-I… I don’t know,” he gasped. “Is this a panic attack?”

**Probably. I’m getting George.**

“No!”

Hunter looked shocked at Max’s exclamation. Max bit his lip, pulse racing and eyes flickering from side to side.

“No. Don’t bother him.”

**Why not? I thought-**

“He’s already been letting me crash at his house for ages, Hun. I can’t bother him any more than that. It was just a phone call. I should be able to deal with it.”

**He’s your boyfriend. He’ll understand.**

“But what if he doesn’t?”

Hunter stared at Max, not breaking eye contact for a few long seconds. Max blinked, eyes watering. He dashed angrily at his cheeks, almost surprised to feel tears. With a loud sniff, he pushed himself off the floor and staggered out of the room. Hunter followed.

When Max tripped over the rug, his breathing speeding up, Hunter frowned. When he checked the door frame with his shoulder, they grew even more concerned.

**That’s it.** They snarled abruptly as Max tripped and skidded back down the three carpeted stairs. **I’m getting George.**

“No-”

Hunter blinked out of sight.

Max slid down the wall to sit with a muttered curse. He pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes roughly, wishing the floor would just swallow him up. Now he’d have to explain to George why he didn’t like phone calls. He’d have to explain why he was such a loser and a _girl_ that something like a conversation reduced him to tears.

_It’s going to be so awkward. He’s gonna kick me out. Why did I pick up that phone? Why don’t I ever think I should have cut contact with my whole family why didn’t I realise mum would tell Grandpa I’d been kicked out of home why’d Ihavetousethatboysbathroom-_

The door slammed open, out of sight. Max flinched at the sudden noise.

“Max? Max!”

Max raised his head slowly.

“George?” he asked plaintively. 

George appeared in the doorway of the corridor where Max was sitting. Max’s red eyes slowly took in George’s dishevelled appearance. He was never anything less than spotless, but now his blond hair was standing on end, his coat strewn over one shoulder and one of his red shoelaces was undone and muddy. There were grass stains on his black jeans.

Max sniffled. “Sorry, George.”

In an instant George was crouched at his feet. He ran one finger over Max’s tear-stained cheek.

“What’s all this, then?”

Scrunching his eyes shut, Max whispered, “I got a phone call.”

George shifted so he was sitting down and pulled Max into his arms.

“Tell me, love.”

Max scrunched forwards into George’s weather beaten red coat, slowing his breathing slightly and tentatively grasping George’s hand. George took his hand and pressed a kiss to it. He arranged Max so he was leaning against his chest, then lay back against the wall himself, making sure Max was in a comfortable position. Max blinked back tears at the display of affection, pushing his nose into George’s neck.

“What is it, Max?”

“I got a call from my Grandpa,” he mumbled.

“The one you’re not out to?”

Max laughed shakily. “I’ve only got one.”

George ran a soothing hand over his cropped hair. “Go on.”

“I’m not out to him and so whenever I talk to him I have to use my stupid old _girly_ voice and I hate it so much it’s so bad but I have to pretend and then if I sound choked up I have to pretend everything’s alright and I _can’t stand it anymore George_.”

“Shh, Max. Calm down,” George said. Max tried to listen. George was usually the voice of reason, anyway. He leaned further into George’s protective embrace.

“‘M sorry, George.”

“Why, sweetheart?”

“I’m being super emotional over nothing.”

He suddenly found himself hauled upright (gently). George gripped him by his upper arms, shook him lightly and stared into his eyes.

“No. Don’t invalidate your struggles. You are absolutely allowed to be emotional, even if it is nothing, OK?”

Max nodded silently, eyes wide.

George pulled him onto another hug.

“What do you want to do?”

He pressed his face into Max’s crew cut as Max answered. “I don’t know. Stop talking to them? I tried that already.”

“You could block their numbers.”

“I could.”

There was a silence like golden syrup. Sweet and a little sluggish. They were both tired. Max saw Hunter flicker out of the corner of his eye. He’d have to thank them later, for getting George. He didn’t even know how they’d done it, since Max seemed to be the only one who could see them. Quiet reigned for a minute.

Finally, George spoke.

“Not that this isn’t lovely, but the carpet really isn’t all that comfortable. Can we relocate?”

Silence met his words.

“Max?”

George pulled back slightly and peered at Max’s sleepy face.

“Sorry, I’m just a bit-” Max yawned- “worn out.”

Chuckling lightly, George shifted. “That’s fine, babe, but this is getting uncomfortable. Couch or bed?”

“Mmph.”

“Bed?”

“Mmhm.”

“You want cookies?”

“Mmhmm.”

George sat up slowly, pulling Max with him. He shuffled into a crouch, then stood, spine cracking lightly as he did so. Max did his best impression of a sack of flour.

“You’re getting heavy, Macki-boy.”

“‘M not.”

Max yelped as he was swept off his feet (literally) by George lifting him in a bridal carry. Had he not been so tired he would have protested at being hauled around like a rag doll, but as it was Max just tucked his head into George’s shoulder as he was carried into their bedroom. There, the blankets were pulled back and he was placed gently in a heap. George scrambled off to grab the homemade cookies and was back in time to save the blanket from Max’s socked and flailing feet. He set the package of cookies on the nightstand, stripped out of his coat and toes off his shoes, then curled around Max and pulled the blankets over them both. George just lay there for a moment, savouring the moment, but acquiesced and grabbed the iPad when Max squirmed impatiently.

“Whaddya wanna watch?”

“Something British.”

“Are You Being Served or Doctor Who?”

“Served, please.”

“Ok, then.”

Before he hit play, George hesitated. “We’re gonna have to actually talk about this, you know that. You need to decide what to do about your family.” He hurried to appease Max when he glared. “Not right now! Just… sometime this week, probably.”

Max nodded grouchily and hit play with rather more force than seemed necessary.

As the opening credits rolled, George buried his nose in Max’s hair again.

“You know I love you, Macki, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, everything’s gonna be alright, ok? No use pretending you’re fine when you’re not. But you will be. Fine, that is. I love you.”

“I know. Now shut up and hand me a cookie.”

**Author's Note:**

> yeah... i got a phone call today. 
> 
> also, when Max uses girl as an insult he doesn't mean the usual (and incorrect) "girls suck and so do u", he's talking in more specific terms of "wow, i hated being a girl and how dare u remind me of it."
> 
> it's like, midnight. hope you enjoyed.


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